


covered in the colors

by godgavemelou



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Recovering, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 10:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16785169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godgavemelou/pseuds/godgavemelou
Summary: "You were a vision in the morning when the light came through, I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you."Just a bit of drabble I wrote about Bucky recovering and Steve being a supportive boyfriend.





	covered in the colors

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't long and this wasn't looked at by any other eyes than my own.
> 
> I really just wanted to write something and this poured out in about 30 minutes. I will understand if people don't like it lol
> 
> If you read it, thank you. If you love it, I love you.

_Everything is white._

_The sky is a cloudy mist, looming over him as the wind rushes around him. His hand is still reaching out where it was grasping the side of the train, reaching for someone long gone. His screams are as loud as anything, tearing at his throat as he falls, fast as lightening. He can’t think, can’t do anything but let it happen, his voice shredding through the air as he crashes into the snowy mountainside._

_Everything is red. Then, nothing at all._

\--

Bucky’s screams jolt him awake, his arm thrashing around as he tries desperately to hold on to something, anyone. His neck is sticky with sweat, his throat dry and scratchy. When his eyes finally open, grey meets blue as he rolls into the man beside him. Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s face, holding him still. This isn’t the HYDRA train, he isn’t falling towards Earth, still reaching out for Steve. He’s here, in their bed, the warmth of the blankets holding him still. He’s here, Steve’s eyes looking into his own. He’s here, watching Steve’s mouth as he speaks to him, but his ears can’t hear them. Yet, his heart can’t seem to calm down, stuttering loudly in his chest.

He doesn’t realize tears are falling until Steve lifts his thumbs to wipe them away.

Wakanda had been wonderful to him, helping him recover in ways he never imagined for himself. But the nightmares still linger from time to time, especially in the colder months. It’s always the same; his body tumbling from the train, falling and falling until he hits the snow. He always wakes up screaming, a phantom pain in the arm he doesn’t have.

Steve reaches over, flicking on the fairy lights he’d insisted on hanging over their bed. It lights up the room, a warm glow illuminating them both. Bucky still feels like he’s falling, so he latches on to Steve’s shoulder, gripping tightly.

“Open your eyes, Buck,” Steve says. Bucky hadn’t realized he’d closed them again.

He opens them, looking straight into Steve’s. There’s a warmth there that spreads through Bucky’s skin and bones.

“What do you hear?”

Bucky listens carefully.

He hears a car driving down the street outside, despite the late hour. He can hear the ticking of their old clock on the wall. There’s a fan running on his side of the bed, because he stays hot at night. Steve hates that fan, says it’s cold to have it. There’s also the twinkling of their windchime outside rusting in the wind.

He repeats this to Steve, so he continues.

“What do you see?”

Bucky looks around without moving from his place in Steve’s arms.

He sees the blue of Steve’s eyes. He sees the blanket covering both of their bodies. There’s a bunch of mail on the desk in their room, because Steve is messy and never sorts it. Their cat is laying in her bed, her eyes closed as she rests. His eyes move back to Steve’s face, and he notices the wrinkle between his eyes that gets there when he’s concentrating.

He tells Steve this, and so he continues.

“What do you feel?”

Bucky feels so many things.

He feels panic in his veins, but it’s slowing down more and more. He feels the wind off the fan, blowing his hair that’s fallen from his ponytail. He feels the warm skin of Steve’s shoulder under his fingertips. There’s a small headache blooming behind his eyes, probably from the yelling he was doing before. He feels his heart starting to slow.

As he tells Steve these things, everything seems to fall into place slowly. 

The grounding always helps him when the nightmares torment him. Before Steve had discovered it, he’d just hold Bucky as he cried until the panic finally left and Bucky realized where he was completely. Now, Steve helps him discover the truth more quickly. He listens for things he wouldn’t be able to hear from the train. He watches for anything that wouldn’t be there, too. And then, finally, feels for things he’d never felt that day.

It isn’t snow and wind. It isn’t his body colliding with the snow. It isn’t his arm being ripped away from him.

It’s just Steve. His arms, his face, their bed, their home.

\--

Instead of standing inside with the fireplace roaring, they stand on their balcony. Snow is falling in light tufts, not even coating the sidewalks yet. Bucky holds a mug of tea in his hand, the cup warming his fingers. There’s a blanket around his shoulders as he stands looking out over the street. Steve is beside him. 

They stand is silence for a while, just watching the snow as it falls. Bucky hates snow; has since before the fall and even more so now. But sometimes it’s peaceful for him, watching as it falls slowly to Earth. Right now is one of those times. Despite his nightmare, seeing snow in another context is helping him relax. He can see it’s different, that he’s in a new place. 

When he finishes his tea, he sits the cup down on the ground. He moves closer to Steve, bringing them both under the warmth of the blanket. As he does, Steve’s arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer. Bucky’s hands are cold against Steve’s back, which makes a shiver fall down Steve’s spine. Bucky sighs, safety engulfing him completely.

Steve places a kiss on his head, despite his greasy hair that desperately needs a wash. Bucky kisses him back, placing it right above his heart. He looks up afterwards, meeting his eyes again, smiling for the first time since he woke up from his nightmare.

Steve smiles back, his eyes bright and full of what Bucky knows is love.

And then, in the shadows of the streetlights and Steve’s smile, he is home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, come follow me on twitter and we can scream about stucky some more.
> 
> @sgtjamesbxrnes


End file.
